Family Matters
by truglasgowgal
Summary: Chuck has been trying, and failing, to get through to her since she came to the Hamptons: but Blair’s never been one to resist that Bass charm; so maybe he just needs to call in reinforcements. After all, what is family if it’s not there in times of need?
1. And The Family Just Keeps On Growing

To be honest this is just a bit of fun. I started writing it a while ago – summer does that to my muses :S – and found it today, along with quite a few others ;) So, I figured I might as well try make something of it and then post it and see if it gets any response :)

Hope you like…

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**Title:** Family Matters  
**Disclaimer:** I own none of the characters  
**A/N:** Starts off with SPOILERS from the first episode of Season Two – or ones reported from a while ago, but who knows. Oh, an this could have been season two compliant, if I'd posted it before the spoilers all appeared – like last month when it was first typed, but there you go… ;)  
**Summary:** With Blair Waldorf living mere feet away from him, hardly even glancing an eye in his direction nevermind actually speaking to him, Chuck Bass needs a distraction. And what is family if it's not there in times of need?

"_Change always comes bearing gifts."  
_– _Price Pritchett_

Chapter One: And The Family Just Keeps On Growing

The server is standing by Blair as she lounges in the sun on the patio by the pool.

"Miss Waldorf," he addresses her, offering her a drink.

She smiles at him, taking a refreshment from his tray, and saying, "Thank you."

Moments later, when the server has already scuttled off, a shadow casts over her, and she turns her gaze upward to look at said interference with annoyance.

Chuck Bass is standing over her, before he leans across her body to grab a towel, smirking as he watches her hold back a shriek.

Instead she fits him with a peeved expression and mutters calmly, "You're getting me wet."

He merely smirks at her in response, and she swears it's gotten wider since he first appeared. "Now we're getting somewhere."

She leans forward and pushes him away with both hands, telling him, "Yeah, getting over there."

A chuckle escapes from his lips as he regains his footing.

The server appears once more, and clears his throat, effectively gaining the attention of both of them, as he says, "Excuse me, Mr. Bass, someone is here to see you."

They both turn their heads to the sound of footsteps approaching, and share identical looks of complete surprise at who they see crossing the threshold towards them.

"Chuckie!" is the scream, of what could only be described as absolute joy.

"Ownie!" his cry came out more startled than sheer, boisterous excitement; not that the other noticed of course; but Blair can already see the smile tugging at his lips.

...

Ownie Bass, or Rowena as she was Baptised, was Bart Bass's youngest child, a daughter no less.

A seven-year-old bundle of seemingly endless energy; with that damned smirk and sarcasm she'd learned from her big brother already perfected and readily put into motion at a moments notice.

Needless to say, she's a handful.

And lucky them; as it appears she'll be staying for the remainder of the holidays.

Just what she needs, Blair thinks to herself, another Bass to wear down the resolve she's worked so hard to maintain through a series of French men and their wondrous cuisine; not to mention fashion. Shopping, after all, was a priority when it came to healing a broken heart.

She watches as the corners of Chuck's eyes soften, as his little sister speed-talks, her hands flying around animatedly, and her face brimming with delight.

He may be an absolute ass, but get him within ten feet of that little girl and he was like someone else entirely; it was how it had always been.

She had this fantastic ability to change his whole persona in a matter of moments.

Maybe two Basses were indeed better than one.

**  
TBC…**

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This was started forever ago and I figured I might as well try and make something of it and post it before the season premiere. Chapters will most likely be rather short, and the story shouldn't span too many of them, but we'll see.

It's mostly just a bit of fun tbh

Also, where Ownie's been for the past however long will be revealed soon enough ;)

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought – it means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	2. Fashion Is A Gene Not All Of Us Possess

Chapter Two: Fashion Is A Gene Not All Of Us Possess

"You remember Blair?" Chuck says with a slight smirk, turning his head to incline it slightly at the brunette by his side.

She _strongly_ resists the urge to shoot him a glare and instead focuses on the little girl before her, who is nodding enthusiastically and smiling up at her.

Blair cocks her head to the side in the smallest of movements, silently asking, 'Really?'

"Digital photos," the child tells her with a grin, her tongue poking through between her teeth in a cheeky action as she adds, "We live in an electronic world, or didn't you know?"

Blair nods, "Mmm. So electronic, in fact, that dearest Eric here couldn't even find the means to inform us of your arrival."

She raises an eyebrow at the younger boy, and he merely shrugs in response.

"Hey, don't blame me. I was under strict instructions not to ruin the surprise. Or else," he counters.

Ownie Bass just smiles sweetly up at them.

x

When she hears what has already become the familiar patter of tiny steps slapping against the marble of the stairs, Blair looks across and sees Ownie bounding through the large French doors and coming to a stop on the patio before them all. The little girl is wearing an ivory, cream and black shift dress with miniature gold gladiator sandals; her brown hair falling loosely aloft her shoulders and her skin already tanning in the light: for a seven-year-old, she looks stunning.

"That's from Barney's," the words suddenly find their way to her lips. "It's Kid by Phillip Lim."

She ignores the strange looks she gets from the rest and simply shrugs in response saying, "What? It's not my fault that I have an eye for fashion, and it sometimes happens to take me into other departments."

The dress costs 325 and caught her eye the moment she saw it; not to mention it was part of an absolutely gorgeous collection: who were they kidding thinking she wouldn't be able to identify it; this is what she lives for, it's who she _is_.

"You look amazing," she says to the little girl with a smile, and something close to pride in her eyes: the kid has great fashion sense.

"Why, thank you, Blair," comes the reply, face bright. "Lily took me shopping."

A smirk appears on the elder's face: of course, the surrogate mother enjoying a bonding session with the Bass offspring; well, at least the woman had style that she could pass on and the kid could pull the look off: but then, it all falls down to confidence in the end. Because if it's something Bass's possess, it's confidence.

"She bought me a bunch of dresses, you know, to make up for the absence of my flower-girl one," Ownie continues, and there's a secret smile playing on her lips.

Blair reads this one, like she'd played it herself; in fact, she undoubtedly has, though admittedly the circumstances were different, but the concept was the same. She knew of Bart's decision to exclude his daughter from the wedding ceremony through Serena. And apparently, it was yet another thing for Lily to fret over: whether Ownie would hold it against her and add it to what was most likely an already scorching flames of resentment; or if it would be accepted, but the child would despise her all the same. She briefly wonders how Lily coped with the lack of fire and brimstone that was awaiting her in lieu of a pleasant smile and welcoming hug. Through spoils, apparently.

Another thing Bass's excel at: the subtle art of manipulation.

She was just waiting for it to come to her.

X

They're partaking in a leisurely stroll along the beach later that night: all six of them. And it's… _nice_. For want of a better description.

She's still constantly at his throat whenever he tries the playful banter with her; but she feels the smiles she sends his way to accompany the words, fake or otherwise, sugarcoat the hostility enough that the seven-year-old watching them doesn't comment.

Serena's playing in the waves with Ownie, their shrieks of joy mingling with the night air and making her smile wistfully as she watches their figures in the moonlit water. Nate and Eric are close by too, the waves crashing around them, and dulling their own shouts as they're taken by surprise and disappear beneath the water; emerging a pair of spluttering fish.

She doesn't hear him approach, but she feels the dislodging of sand near her feet, and the sees his shadow cast itself over her. She shivers; and she doesn't allow her thoughts to stray to the cause.

"I'd offer you my coat," she opens her eyes to look at Chuck when he pauses, fingering the buttons on his blazer lightly, and smirks, "but then I'd be cold."

She could have hit him right there and then, but she doesn't; instead, she let's her rage brew inwardly, and allows the milling of all the reasons _not_ to castrate his sorry ass lull her back to calmness.

Of course, seeing him walk into foyer later that night; his miniature female counterpart desperately trying to match him stride for stride, and clad in an oversized striped sweater (the one she just _knows_ he was wearing under said blazer of prior) that traipsed along by her sandals, didn't help matters.

**  
TBC…**

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A/N: That dress did actually exist when I first wrote this, and was actually stunning. But since I took so long to post this, or actually do something with it, it's no longer there so I can't link you – sorry.

Oh, an like I said, the chapters are pretty short, and the story should be also ;) Just a bit of fun, and ability to exercise my appalling tense variation.

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought of it – means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	3. It Helps To Know Who You’re Talking To

Ok, so no one really seems to like this, but I've finished it, and it's really not that long, and I figure I might as well post it so... if you feel inclined - leave me a wee review ;)

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Chapter Three: It Helps To Know Who You're Talking To

Carter Baizen is in town, and so, because she's still not completely ok with Chuck; and because she knows it'll piss him off to no end, she invites him over to the beach house. And ever the sleaze and arrogant guy that he is, he tries to charm his way into a certain blue-eyed brunette's heart. Apparently for a seven-year-old she's rather astute, but then again, she is a Bass.

Carter stands up, oozing confidence as he strides over to the little girl. "Hi there, Ownie."

The seven-year-old calmly narrows her eyes; she's had an expert as inspiration, and tells him, "My Mommy and Daddy named me Rowena. Only my _friends_ call me Ownie"

"And I don't think I want to know you that well," she adds airily, sending him a flash of a smile, before turning her attention back to her drink; stirring her straw around the edges of her glass, creating a whirlpool of color inside.

_I love this kid, _Blair couldn't help the stray thought from floating through her mind as she glances across at Chuck lounging out on the veranda in the morning sun; who, thankfully, hasn't noticed Carter's presence by the breakfast bar with his baby sister just yet.

All in due time, of course, as well Blair knows.

"Ok then, Rowena," and he nods slightly at the child.

"Hi," the girl smiles brightly at him, turning her head to face him; causing him to crinkle his brow at her complete 180, while she sits quite contentedly on the bar seat, swinging her legs. "So, what d'you want?"

"Well… " Carter seems slightly taken aback by this, so tries to recover by appearing casual.

"What's your lion's name?" he redirects, smiling at the girl, and nodding towards the stuffed toy on the counter next to her.

"He's my Teddy," she deadpans, with the disdain that only a child could pull off, and reaches out to tug the bear off the marble top and onto her lap.

"I think I'll be going now," she tells him, jumping off the wooden stool, and starting to skip away.

She turns back, after about ten paces, and says, "You should be going too, 'cos I don't think my brother would appreciate you being here, an 'specially not talking to me."

And with a slight smirk playing across her lips, she adds, "And besides, don't you think you're a little _old_ for me?"

It's official: Blair Waldorf has found her perfect prodigy; and even better, she hardly even needs to be molded, merely _refined_.

Of course when she hear the roar of her name resounding off the marble surround, and catches a glimpse of a livid looking Chuck storming through the porch doors; she scarpers, child-wonders can wait.

Besides, self-preservation's all the rage these days, didn't you know?

X

Later that day, Blair's touring the gardens, and there's a constant presence trailing by her.

She's like a miniature blended version of her and Serena, only she's related to Chuck – but then they've all been there at one time or another: the blonde through marriage, her through associated choice.

"Don't you have anything to do other than follow me around?" she stops, and turns, posing the question with a cock of the head and a raised, expectant eyebrow.

"At the moment, no. Why? – Am I bothering you?" Ownie smiles sweetly up at the elder, who just shakes her head, rolling her eyes, and the girl's grin intensifies as they continue walking.

She finally looks at her, and their eyes lock.

Piercing blue eyes that probably mislead many into believing that their owner is as innocent as she looks and not the devil incarnate that she can actually be.

Eyes that have the rare ability at times to show barely any emotion, but when they did; whether it was wrath, or absolute horror, they were disturbingly beautiful. When they danced with glee, though, they were positively sinful.

Eyes that she is, in this moment, willing to scratch out with her own recently French-manicured nails just to make them stop questioning her.

Because that's what they're doing, and she really can't take it much longer.

She sighs, long and deep, "… It's complicated."

The younger simply rolls her eyes, "Whatever. You love him; he loves you. He pissed you off; you pissed him off."

"Don't you think you're about even?" the seven-year-old queries, raising an eyebrow, her face squinting to gauge the elder's reaction.

"You wouldn't understand," she tells the miniature version of herself; and then wonders if she should reprimand the girl on her language. She doubts it would do much to reform her anyway.

"Why? Because it's _complicated?_" comes the blatant sarcasm in return, and a 'Give me a break' look directs its way to her; she's never been one to suffer ignorance lightly.

It's like having your very own conscience standing before you, that little voice in your head that likes to question you at every turn and make sure you know exactly what it thinks of you; and quite frankly, she's more than a little drained by it. And it's too damn accurate for her liking as well.

"You should talk to him," Ownie says. "For something so effective it's surprisingly underrated."

And with that she gives the elder what can only be described as the smallest of smiles, though it bears a slight edge of sympathy and encouragement all the same, and then bounces up the marble steps with an extra spring in her step that can only be achieved when you feel extra pleased about something.

Blair is almost positive the Bass family will be the death of her; they know far too much for their own good, or anyone else's for that matter.

**TBC…**

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A/N: Part of the Carter/Ownie interaction was inspired by 'Perfect Match'.

Also, apologies for any errors with tense. I sort of suck at writing in present tense, so this is like my opportunity to try and improve ;)

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought of it.  
Steph  
xxx


	4. Refresh My Memory

A/N: One slight SPOILER, I suppose, if you haven't read the Gossip Girl Blog entry for Bart & Lily's wedding. I've marked (+) it, if it helps ;) But, it is NOT a Season 2 Spoiler.

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Chapter Four: Refresh My Memory

He's been drinking, she knows, and with Ownie around that can never be a good thing.

She watches the seven-year-old bound giddily up to her older brother. Sees his eyes glaze over with something she would place close to remembrance, _nostalgia_, because despite popular belief Chuck Bass actually does harbor such a thing as fond memories.

When she's broken from her little reverie, his hand is outstretched and he's twirling one of his sister's chocolate curls between his fingers.

His face softens for a moment, before his eyes cloud over; his face contorting. She knows he's confused.

It's the eyes.

He stumbles backwards, knocking over the stool, and amber liquid sloshes against the insides of his glass, spilling onto his hand.

She watches him blanch, his mouth open, and catches his repetition in his negatives.

"No," he breathes out, and she meanders her way closer.

They're in a fairly secluded spot, but still, she knows it won't do anyone any favors if a scene is made.

"No," he reiterates.

He staggers further back when the little girl's face falls into a frown, and she takes a step towards him to try and reach him.

"You – no – you shouldn't be here," he tells her, his head tilted to the side, and his eyes darting around, following her swirling image.

The child's face scrunches up, and she asks him what he's on.

She stifles a laugh, because it is actually a rather funny moment; but then she hears his next words, and knows she has to do something to dissolve this entire situation.

"No! Stop trying to screw with my head – you're dead. You're dead! I watched you die!" he hisses, his face hard. "You're not real!"

"You're not real," he ends, quiet and breathless.

His eyes set on the figure before him; her eyes wide, face startled, actions stilted.

And then she turns and runs, tearing up the stairs at a tremendous pace; while Chuck comes too.

"Oh God," he breathes out, recognition clearing in his mind.

He collapses in the bar stool that had been roughly removed from his previous path, a weary hand falling over his face.

She looks from him to the path his little sister just tread, and with one last glance at his distraught form, she goes after Ownie.

X

"Don't come any closer."

"It's me," Blair says calmly, inching forward into the room and towards the bed all the same.

"I know who it is," Ownie says, raising her head. "And I said not to come any closer."

…

"I miss her so much," the little girl chokes out, and she thinks the tears might be burning her skin.

"I know you do, sweetheart," she soothes, reaching a hand out to tuck a strand of her coffee locks behind her ear; it's as close as she's been allowed, and she cups her cheek softly.

+ It's been less than two years since the death of Misty Bass; and, while she feels guilty about it, the fact is that she, along with the rest of the Upper East Side, moved on. They began to forget the woman with strikingly exotic features, how she had lived among them, influencing their lives; and then how she had died, affecting them each in a myriad of ways.

The fact that Ownie Bass, the one true living replica of the woman, was whisked away to live with her grandparents a continent and thousands of miles of ocean away from them all seemed to contribute rather heavily to the moving on process.

She understood why Bart did it; she herself saw the looks people gave Ownie, so close was her resemblance to her mother's, and she knew that no parent would ever wish that on their child. She also understood Chuck's resentment of the whole affair, what had happened and why; because who wants to see their baby sister being taken away from them, and so soon after you've been separated from a parent?

The fact was that everything was still so raw in the lives of the family, and with their society too. It was a way of coping: to relieve the pressure, and hopefully start the healing process.

It might not have been the best choice for everyone, but she can see the logic in it; it was a move stimulated by nothing but love, and how could she not understand that?

…

"I can be anyone you want me to be," she whispers, lying next to her on the bed and holding out her arms.

"Just not her," she adds, wrapping her arms around the younger's body and holding her close.

"I don't want anyone but her," the little girl says almost inaudibly.

Almost so she couldn't hear it.

Almost, but not quite.

…

Blair closes her eyes and pretends to be asleep, because she's good at pretending. She's so good she even fools him.

"I will protect you," he whispers over their sleeping forms, gently fingering some of her loose curls, trailing a faint line of promise down her temple, along her jaw, across her lips; before falling away with the kiss he delivers to his sister's forehead.

He straightens, turns and leaves the room; his watchful shadow shielding the light from the hallway, before the heavy-set door replaces his role.

Then again, maybe he just wants her to know he still cares.

X

The next morning, she's walking along the top corridor, when voices catch her attention. She can't help it, she's naturally curious. Which is why she finds herself standing outside Ownie Bass's bedroom, staring through the gap in the door at brother and sister while they sit on her bed, apparently deep in conversation.

"I'm sorry I said those things last night," she hears him tell the little girl.

She watches the child shrug her shoulders as she replies, "It's ok. I mean, it's not like you're the first person to think I'm her."

He nods, his head dipped, as he says, "I know, but – well, I'm your big brother, amn't I? I'm meant to keep you safe, not scare the living daylights out of you."

She giggles, awards him a smile, and answers, "True, but I'd rather you than someone else."

"Besides, Blair took care of me, so it's ok," she adds.

"Yeah, about that…" he starts, shifting beside her, but she cuts him off.

She makes that child-like move to zip her lips closed with her fingers and tells him, "Don't worry, I won't tell a soul."

He eyes her momentarily, seemingly amused by this, and then says, "Good…"

She nods, beaming at him, and they lapse into a comfortable silence.

Her head is resting on her knee, her fingers wrapped around her toes, as she tilts her gaze to look at him, and asks quietly, "Do you miss her?"

"Every day," he breathes out.

The little girl nods, and turns back to stare at the carpet, her hands holding tighter to her feet.

And then his arms wrap around her small frame and pull her into him, and he holds her close, kissing her head and telling her, "But I've still got you, and that's all I need."

She sees the tears fall from the seven-year-old's eyes, and watches her latch onto her older brother; and witnesses her smiling despite it all.

**  
TBC…**

* * *

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought – means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	5. Gestures of the Heart

A/N: Bold type memories/past

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Chapter Five: Gestures of the Heart

He finds her later that morning as she's lounging on the sun-bed out on the patio.

"You beat me to it," he says, referring to comforting Ownie in his absence.

She just shakes her head, "No, I spared you from having to do it."

She turns her gaze up to face him and for the longest moment, he looks at her, not uttering a word.

Something passes over his face and her brow furrows as she tried to work out what it is.

.

**"I'll be good," Ownie whispered, clinging to Chuck's arm and looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "I promise."**

**He pulled from her grasp, and placed both his hands on her shoulders.**

"**No," he said firmly, and looked at her with what, Ownie swore, were tears in his eyes. "You'll be extraordinary."**

**And then he was gone.**

**He didn't allow himself to glance back at the girl he had so knowingly abandoned.**

**Guilt, after all, was very unbecoming.**

**.**

He seems to snap out of whatever overtook him moments before, because he nods his head, and gives her a small, grateful smile and says, "Well, thank you – for being there for her. And for doing that; for me, her, whatever. Just… thanks."

She watches him for a moment, trying to read his eyes, his expression, because she knows that there's something she's missing; when a voice cuts in with, "Don't cave, Blair."

The seven-year-old says it softly, but it's still loud enough for Chuck to hear, "He's really a big softie if you argue enough."

With that she lets out a giggle and sprints from the patio to leap headfirst into the pool.

"Did she just call me a big softie?" Chuck asks, eyeing up the spot where his little sister was moments before, to the splash she'd created next to them.

She tries to suppress a laugh, but to no avail. "I think she did, yeah."

She sees him roll his eyes at the child's antics, though the light amused affection on his face betrays anything else from showing.

"You okay, Chuck?" she asks after a few moments.

He turns back to face her, and pauses, before brushing her off with a smirk and the words, "Yeah. Don't believe everything she says."

And with that, he walks back into the house, passing by Serena as he goes; who looks from him to her with a slightly confused look, which then morphs into an expectant eyebrow raise.

X

"You've really taken a shining to the little one haven't you?" Serena says with a smile.

They're sitting by the breakfast bar, watching through the glass as Ownie messes about in the swimming pool with Chuck and Nate, Eric lounging onan inflatable dinghy or whatever nearby; a constant amused look on his face.

"Yeah, I have," she answers, his lips curving upwards in a wistful smile.

"Never thought I'd hear myself say this, but the kid's not half bad."

"Well, she drives Chuck up the wall so how bad can she be, right?" the blonde responds with a grin.

"Right," she agrees, laughing.

And then she catches sight of the young brunette just as she emerges from her deep-sea dive, torpedoing straight into the lilo Chuck is now lounging on, and tipping him right off and into the water with a great splash, and she laughs even more.

X

She doesn't know how it happens. One minute she's chatting away to Serena as they lie lounging on the sun-beds, and the next there is a loud _crack_ followed by a dull splash.

She turns and sees red: on the stone, in the water. And then she sees her, Ownie: floating facedown in the pool.

She's surprised she doesn't freak out, even more so that Serena does. She yells at her best friend twice for her to call an ambulance, and before she can even think about anything further, she finds herself wading through crimson tides and grabbing hold of the deadweight of a seven-year-old. Somehow she manages to get her out the pool, her best friend coherent enough to actually lend a hand, and within a matter of moments; though it feels like a lifetime, she can assure you, paramedics are by their side.

Who knew their residence was so close to the ambulance route?

She rides the whole way with her, Serena too. She even manages to call him; though she's fairly certain she doesn't actually make much sense by this point. He gets the message, however, and is there by the doors waiting for them when they arrive.

He blanches when he sees her ashen face, the blood surrounding her head like a halo on the Angel of Death.

She and Serena stay back as they rush Ownie through the threshold, but he goes with them, holding his little sister's hand throughout.

And it almost breaks her when they stop him from going any further at the other doors, the ones that lead into the _ER Trauma Room_. The completely crestfallen look on his face is enough to make her want to run to him; and she does. Throwing her arms around him, and sobbing into his shoulder, voicing a repeat of _"I'm so sorry"_ into his shoulder.

Surprisingly, he just nods. He doesn't ask how it happened; must have been able to take something from her garbled attempt at an explanation of Ownie – pool – slipped – fell underwater. And for some reason, he doesn't seem to care; maybe because, for all intents and purposes, it could have been him on watch when it happened. All that matters is that they are there, together, and share a common thought: that the child in that room recovers.

She feels his fingers entwine with hers, but when she looks at him his attention is all on the girl in the room before them. She dips her head a little, before lifting it up once more, squeezes his hand and stands next to him as they watch his little sister fight to survive, silently willing the girl not to give up. She's hopeful the child will do just that; after all, it's not in a Bass's nature to back down from a challenge.

**  
TBC…**

* * *

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think – means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	6. Color My World

A/N: Brief Season 2 spoilers here!! (And by that I mean, I've incorporated a few lines of their 2.01 conversation's into ONE paragraph of my own, well, two sentences – it'll be **marked** (+) for those who want to skip it over!!)  
Bold type is memories.

* * *

Chapter Six: Color My World

She is such a sorry little sight, that Blair has to fight to stop herself from crying just by a mere glance. Her chocolate locks are deep and dark against the stark white of the pillow, while her face is ashen; her plump little pink lips standing out almost as vividly as the violent red gash sliced across the right hand side of her face, near the top of her hairline.

The adult sized bed seems to dwarf her more than usual, and the various sheets covering her seemed to drown her tiny frame underneath.

She reaches out a hand to cup the little girl's face, gently brushing away the stray strands from her eyes as she does so.

_She has to pull through_, Blair thinks to herself; _because I have absolutely no idea what we'll do if she doesn't_.

**  
She was red and crumpled, wrapped in a thick pink blanket when his mother hands her to him. And she's glaring up at him from half-opened kitten blue eyes, a ferocious scowl across her face, fingers waving frantically as she demanded everything.**

**She was the ugliest thing he had ever seen.  
****  
But Chuck Bass looked down into those indignant blue eyes and fell instantly and totally in love.**

.

"I can't say for sure," the Doctor begins.

"Then don't," Chuck interrupts, fixing him with a hard look.

She places a calming hand on his arm, and is mildly surprised when he doesn't shrug it off.

Turning to the Doctor, who's face seems to have blanched at this outburst, she placates him with a small, reassuring smile, and lightly clears her throat before asking, "What _can_ you tell us?"

x

"How is she?" she finds her voice as soon as she enters the room, though it does, admittedly, take her a moment; and it's far more timid than she'd like to believe, but it's there all the same; along with the no doubt, frantic, terrified look on her face.

"If I die suddenly, I'll be sure to get someone to let you know," the child's own voice breaks through, while her brief, ragged, laughter resounds off the walls; and she looks up to meet the disapproving eyes of her mentor.

She frowns at the child, "Not funny."

Ownie simply grins through cracked lips; and Blair can feel herself smiling back.

She launches herself at the younger, and wraps her arms tightly round her, murmuring into her hair, "Oh God, don't you ever do that again, you hear me? Don't you ever scare me like that."

She can feel the girl nod her head; though she has no doubt she'll take great pleasure in scary her senseless at the next opportunity. But as smaller arms join hers in the embrace, she decides to take comfort where she can.

"Thank you," the little girl whispers hoarsely, her blue eyes shining.

And she nods, holding her closer and kissing her head, her lips breaking into a smile too as she says in return, "Any time."

X

They've both been sitting there for hours, and she doesn't think they've taken their eyes off the little girl before them for a second; they were together in their fear of what would happen to her, and they are still together now that she's pulled through.

What Blair wants to know, however, is if they would still be together after it all?

They talk all night, with only the lulling buzz of the machines and his little sister's breathing to keep them company in the low reflection of strip lighting.

It's not the right place, and it's probably not the right time either; but it _feels_ right, for both of them, and they can't ask for better than that.

+ He tells her he was scared; that he never meant to hurt her, though he knows he has, and that he thought if they spent all that time together she'd see him for what he really was. She asks what that is and he replies with a simple _me_.

They talk like they've never done before, and share things; however small or insignificant, and eventually, there's a change. She knows she's not alone in feeling the barriers coming down. She knows she's not alone in feeling that familiar flutter of winged creatures once more. She knows she's not alone in feeling that they actually have a chance, a real and true chance to make things right again. Because they have been wrong for such a long time, and it's about damn time things were put to order.

…

"I think I... I think I love you," she voices, biting her lip at the declaration.

He sighs, his lips twitching upwards.

"Come here," he says and he holds his arms out.

She shuffles over from the seat next to him, allowing herself to crawl over him, slide into his open arms. They are warm and inviting and she can't help but think about what it would be like to have him hold her forever.

He dips his head and kisses her temple, her hairline. She moves her hand so it's resting on his chest. Her head fits perfectly in the little nook between his neck and shoulder, and wonders if it's meant just for her. Moments past, and she looks up to see him watching her.

"Do you know why this is my favorite place, my safe place?" she asks through heavy lids, her voice barely a whisper against his skin.

"Why?" he murmurs, smiling faintly as his eyes draw over her.

She smiles, and whispers, "Because I can hear your heartbeat."

"And I know that you're here, with me," she ends, snuggling closer into him.

Her eyes flutter shut, and a slow smile flitters across her features as his heart skips a little.

"I love you, B. Waldorf," he tells her, a smile breaking through as he uses his childhood 'nickname' for her and watches her lips curve lazily upwards, her features relax, her body loosen in his grasp.

"And I'm not going anywhere."

She's waited a while to hear those words, and maybe it's not the right time, and maybe it's not the right place; but as she watches his gaze travel from her to the little girl in the bed before them, sees his eyes soften at the corners and feels his fingers entwine with hers; she thinks maybe, just maybe, Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf might be something that can work out after all.

****

The End.

* * *

Told you it wasn't that long! ;)

I reckon it could possibly be shorter than some of the _'Through Mist & Elegance'_ chapters I've written – will that shameless plugging get you to read another of my fics?! Lol, I do suggest it! ;P

Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading and/or reviewing, alerting, favouriting – it means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


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